


You Crazy Witch Bitch

by Kara_luna



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), crossover - Fandom, fusion - Fandom
Genre: Attempt at Humor, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, David Rose is a Good Person, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Howard Stark Lives, Howard Stark is the parent Tony deserves, Howard Stark's Good Parenting, Humor, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov-centric, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25794853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_luna/pseuds/Kara_luna
Summary: Natasha Romanoff's an orphan with a name that isn't her's in a castle full of magic she doesn't feel she belongs in, in a world of people she's just a hair's width from reaching. She has magic at her fingertips now, and isn't that a trip? All those nights all alone in a dusty room with nothing but long forgotten melodies and the wind's symphony in the roof's loose shingles, to lull her to sleep. But now, the world is more open than it's ever been, and people are crashing through her bubble, melding into her life with a bang and zip, smile and smirk, a sweet honey drip.And suddenly the world isn't so lonely with bruce by her side,  it's not as scary when Rhodey will always be there to guide her forward, not as silent when Tony can never shut up, not as sad when clint's never sick of cracking jokes, and not as isolating when Loki looks at her like a mirror that's cracked.And then she meets Bucky Barnes and it goes the rest of the way to hell. Because for the first time in all her life, Natasha...She wants something.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Loki, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Natasha Romanov, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Loki & Natasha Romanov, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Loki & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, implied and happens after this but is kinda hinted at
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	You Crazy Witch Bitch

Hogwarts was an adjustment. It was- strange. After 11 years spent in an orphanage where everything you have, you’ve fought tooth and nail for, and fought with everything else you’ve got just to keep it, it was very  _ very  _ strange. The orphanage was always drafty, the blankets paper thin, and her cot was the same threadbare mat she was given at her arrival at age two. 

She also had a last name now, which was an odd experience in and of itself. And friends. Those were… a surprise to say the least. Natasha isn’t antisocial, per say, she’s just smart enough to trust people about half as far as she can throw them, because she can throw someone pretty damn far if need be. 

Four years of wizarding school, of a world she hadn’t even known existing until the day a barn owl came knocking on her window and her caretaker, Mrs. Marnie, came walking into her room with clouded eyes and a strange bald man behind her, and Natasha likes to think she’s adjusted pretty well, thank you very fucking much. 

The friends though… That was  _ definitely  _ not part of the plan. Her cab ride to the station, bus ride, and then trip over the lake that apparently had a bloody kraken in it, whoever thought that was a good idea should be  _ bludged,  _ \- yes she’s still bitter from her brief dip in the cold as all fuck pond because someone decided throwing fish food in the water was a clever idea - and her wait in line for the “sorting” without anyone else bothering her. 

Then she got sorted. 

She marches up to the pedestal with the hawkish looking woman with brown hair waiting as if she’s got somewhere to be that doesn’t include half a hundred 11 year olds, and sits down on a wobbly stool that feels more like home than anything else since she left the orphanage. 

Then the hat starts  _ talking.  _ Natasha is a naturally rational person, she doesn’t freak out over nearly anything, but this? A talking  _ fucking hat?  _ Yes she blanched for a moment and all her thoughts went out the window, but at least she hadn’t screamed like one of the other non wizard girls who went up before her. 

Natasha has  _ great  _ self control, thank you very much. The hat drones on about friendship and magic and believing in yourself, and when Natasha has just about reached her limit for feel good bullshit from someone who’s clearly never felt the pain of going three days without food or a boy twice your age forcing his hand up your skirt, she finally snaps. 

_ ‘Is there a point to this?’  _

And the hat pauses for a moment, considering her thoughts apparently as she stares blankly at the tables of kids watching her right back. Some whispering started at some point, and Natasha realizes she doesn’t know how long the hat’s been on her head. It feels like days, but that’s obviously just the effect of whatever magic’s been placed on it. 

The whispering and glances from pretty much everyone is making her shift on her seat though. She desperately wishes she had been able to slip her bent butter knife out of the orphanage with her, but the bald guy with the eyepatch had given her a deadpan expression and told her to leave her weapons outside his school, the bastard. 

The hat hums something, apparently having decided what to do with the girl he’s sitting on. 

_ ‘No doubt about it…’ _ “Slytherin!”

It booms, and she cocks an eyebrow as only one table seems to erupt into cheers, unlike the reaction to the people sorted before her. She knows a bit about Hogwarts, she did try to be as prepared as possible before she was required to show up, but there’s only so much reading material she could get her hands on as a “muggleborn” orphan girl with zero money and zero contacts. 

She stands slowly, carefully smoothing her uniform skirt, before marching over to the table full of green and silver to a frankly obnoxious level. She sits down, the sorting continues behind her, cheering starts up as people are sorted a lot faster than she was sorted, and everything seems right with the world as she sits in front of her empty plate and takes in everything for a second. 

Then she looks up. 

There’s food  _ everywhere.  _ Scones and pumpkin juice in giant pitchers, buttered biscuits and cauldrons of steaming chicken soup, fruit salads and even an overflowing tray of sushi rolls, bread platters with more cheeses than she realized existed and six full sized turkeys, pots of rice and vegetable bowls, spaghetti heaped with red sauce and sausage and countless other kinds of food laid out over the giant table… 

Natasha wants to eat it all. She wants to stuff her face with it until she can’t breath and her stomach aches with pleasure instead of pain. She wants food stuck in her teeth and sauce covering her lips, and to gain so much weight she’ll never feel hungry again… 

But Natasha also wants to be prepared. Nothing ever ends well for little orphan girls like her, nothing good ever sticks. The parents who bring her home always return her, the foster system always fails her, and eventually everyone who promised to look after her leaves. 

Natasha takes a slice or two of bread and slathers as much butter as possible onto both sides of each piece, savoring the opportunity to eat something that tastes like food instead of dirt. The flavor explodes in her mouth and her lips curve at the corners. 

She feels oddly content in her little bubble of self seclusion, squished between other green clothed individuals too caught up in themselves and their conversations to give her a second glance, and eating food without the immediate fear of it being stolen away. 

It’s nice.

And that’s why she’s not surprised when it doesn’t last. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

“Hey, Natasha right?” The boy across from her seems to realize her existence, pulling away from the buzzcut kid next to him and whatever  _ very excitable  _ conversation they were having. “Tony.” He says sticking out his hand for her to shake. 

She contemplates ignoring him, but the look of the kid next to him is making her reconsider. His face clearly reads ‘just do it, or he’ll never leave you alone.’ 

“Natasha.” She replies uneasily, briefly gripping his hand and shaking once before pulling back. 

Tony grins and his brown eyes  _ dance.  _

That was her first mistake. He just starts going off about everything and anything, about his father and how much he’s been brought along to ministry work so he can learn the ropes, she’s fairly certain he doesn’t mean the church when he says ministry but she doesn’t have the will or chance to ask given how rapid fire he talks, and it’s as if he takes her stone cold silence as an invitation for friendship or something. 

Natasha looks at the kid next to Tony for help. He just gives her a ‘what can you do’ shrug and offers a hand. “Rhodey. Sorry bout Tones, he gets a bit excited sometimes.” He gestures to the boy next to him who hasn’t even slowed down. 

“... Ya so the work we’re doing is pretty progressive and ‘ol Cornelius is obviously being a bitch about it. All ‘things are fine the way they are’ and ‘these muggle style inventions have no place in the ministry’ and shit. I mean honestly! Who does he think he’s fooling! My dad’s wand amplifier is fan-fucking-tastic, and I should know cause I helped him make the thing-”

“Okay Tony, let’s breath. This is Natasha and I believe when you meet someone you’re supposed to let them talk too.” Rhodey says, gripping Tony’s shoulders and steering him back to the table’s direction instead of the ceiling that he had begun preaching to. 

Natasha saw her life flash before her eyes. It was mildly disappointing, to be honest. 

“Oh right right, I forgot you ‘normal people,” he does air quotes, “are still caught up on ‘nice manners’ and ‘human decency,’ while I’m a man of the  _ future! _ ”

She just sits there. How do you even respond to that. 

Rhodey sighs, noticing her blank stare no doubt. He just drops his forehead on the table and groans like a rusty door hinge. Natasha is vaguely concerned in that detached kind of way you feel when someone riding a bike smashes into a telephone pole because they were too busy trying to look down some lady’s shirt. 

“I’m not exactly very good at the whole ‘nice manners’ thing either. Not really the friends type…” She trails off meaningfully. Natasha will look back on this moment years later and pity that sweet summer child that actually believed that would work. 

Tony  _ lights up.  _

“Oh yes! A kindred soul! I too hate the rest of humanity. Please, tell me more about how much you wish society would just shrivel up into a ball of trash and fuck off.” He slams his hands down on the table, leans forward into her personal bubble, and Jesus christ, looks genuinely interested. 

Rhodey starts moaning again, and Natasha does, possibly the most idiotic and ill advised thing she’s ever done in her life. 

She responds. 

>>>>>>>>>.

Hogwarts is pretty much a whirlwind after that. Everyone’s getting accustomed to this strange new way of life and normalcy has seemed to go straight out the window. People walk about with frogs and owls, eat candies that make their hair change color or cause their voice to change to animal sounds, and treat their house colors as if it defines their very being. 

Natasha pretty much ignores everyone that doesn’t  _ force  _ her to acknowledge them. Except for Rhodey. Rhodey is a god damn blessing for handling Tony and giving her ears a moment of peace and quite before she goes completely butt fuck insane. 

It’s really the only reason Tony still has his tongue. So what if Headmaster Fury would kick her out on her ass? Natasha can’t think of a better way to get kicked out of a wizarding school, and honestly it’s not as if they can’t just use some witchy voodoo and just abracadabra a new one for him. 

She’s thought this through. Many times. In  _ great _ detail. 

So really, it’s kind of her fault for not immediately turning on her heel and booking it when he approaches her in the courtyard. She’s reading a textbook, something about runes or what not and it’s actually pretty interesting, unlike the absolute drivel that is her history class assigned reading. 

Her first hint something’s happening is when Tony’s constant chattering suddenly just  _ isn’t  _ there. She would have returned to her diagrams of rune types and specialities, but Rhodey’s deeper tener was noticeably absent. That’s when she knew something was happening. 

Because nothing but Rhodey’s voice can shut Tony up. 

Her gaze slowly rises from the page, scanning over black pants, a white button up, and finally resting on the bright yellow and black tie. Lastly, she looks at the guy’s face. He’s a blonde with startling blue eyes and laugh lines along his mouth despite his obvious young age. 

“Yes?” She asks without really wanting to know the answer. Tony is practically grinning ear to ear and vibrating with pent up energy, only being contained by Rhodey’s patient hand on his shoulder, but both of them are silent. And both of them are watching her and the new boy with smug eyes. 

Natasha’s instantly suspicious. 

The guy brightens, he’s probably been standing there a while waiting for her to notice him, and grins at her as if she’s made some funny joke. His go lucky attitude is kind of disturbing her. And Natasha’s seen a girl make a boy forcibly vomit up the food they stole from her and feed it to them while sitting on their back. Yelena was kind of a badass for a ten year old. 

“Hi! I’m Clint, from your charm’s class? Me and some friends were planning on studying for that upcoming test and thought you might wanna join? Your friends are welcome to come too.” He replies as if she’s actually recuperating his pleasant attitude. She’s not. 

He seems undaunted by her deadpan expression. Tony, on the other hand, has an absolutely devilish smirk and Natasha actually feels everything go to slow motion for a second. Her life flashes before her eyes for the second time. She’s slightly less depressed with what she sees, but damn, is it close. 

“Oh, Natasha’s been telling us  _ all  _ about charms and how much she’s been stressing bout that test. She  _ definitely  _ wants to come along with us! What time?” Tony responds with the most shit eating grin she’s ever seen on anyone, and she lived with kids who would steal your blanket and dump it in the toilet before drying it and putting it back just to see your look of abject horror when you realized you're lying under a piss and shit stained sheet. 

Natasha sees  _ red.  _

Rhodey, of course because he’s  _ Rhodey,  _ grabs her by the shoulder before she can launch herself at Tony or Clint, and is already introducing all three of them and talking about meeting at the library at 5 tuesday night and making plans to hang out and if that arm didn’t belong to Rhodey, Natasha would have torn it off and beat all three of them to death with it. 

But it’s  _ Rhodey,  _ and she’s not sure how she would survive without him mediating Tony’s tony-ness. 

So she ends up helpless as the hufflepuff jogs back to his cluster of friends, a ravenclaw boy with curly hair and glasses and fellow slytherin with slicked back raven hair. 

Natasha knows there’s no escape, she’s been forced into two friendships already and is well aware once they’ve got their claws in you they’ll never let you go, but damn does she try. Of course, her resistance disappears once they get to the study session and one sentence from the glasses boy - Bruce - completely distracts and even at times,  _ silences  _ Tony, Clint actually starts engaging her in conversations about the Runes book he saw her reading and  _ offers an interesting viewpoint,  _ and Loki literally starts their introduction by slamming a thermos on the table and announcing it’s full of nightquil and when he starts seeing rainbows, to bring him to the hospital wing. 

(It has nothing to do with the fact Bruce smiles shyly at her and admits he’s not good with talking to people either, with the sweetest most self deprecating smile she’s ever seen, and she melts. It’s completely irrelevant to the way Clint rolls up his sleeve and shows her the rune on his forearm that allows him to hear despite his deafness and asks uncertainly if she’d like him to show her a little bit of sign language in case it stops working, and she wants to deck whoever the fuck made him uncertain about telling someone he has a hearing condition  _ that he was born with and is not his fault and is in no way a negative thing.  _

It’s completely unrelated to how Loki asks about her last name and gives her a look full of understanding when she says she’s an orphan and he tells her he’s a foster kid who’s never really had a home either. He gives her a smile instead of his trademark smirk that she can _tell_ feels awkward and strange on his face and he’s trying _just_ to make _her_ feel better _,_ and she slowly takes away his thermos and asks him about what he did to get revenge on kids at the orphanage when they took his stuff, and he _beams like he only knows english and she’s the first person to not speak to him in Russian.)_

>>>>>>>>>>>>

It's fifth year when it all falls apart. Natasha’s grown used to the presence of her Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin colleagues - we are  _ not  _ friends, dammit Tony  _ stop laughing at me _ \- but Gryffindors always keep their distance from her motley crew of rejections and weirdos. 

They’re a strange collection of snark, self consciousness, and complete fuckery, but they’re happy like that. They’ve found a place beneath one of the large trees in the western courtyard where they can gather each day, the shade making it perfect for the sunny summer and the thick branch coverage making it ideal for the snowy winter and rainy fall. Spring too, she supposes, but spring is basically just summer and winter not being able to decide who’s turn it is to control the world, so she doesn’t really consider it a full season. 

Point is, life was going strangely well. Which should have been her first sign of something coming around the corner, in hindsight, but the blonde kid in her herbology class who’s always wearing a big leather jacket over his uniform that’s two sizes too big for him, was starting to rub off on her. 

His big, doe-like blue eyes were always full of genuine kindness and he was most probably the most gentle, pure,  _ good  _ human being she’s ever encountered, and she kinda hates both him and herself for it. He’s just too much to be real. I mean honestly, the kid punched someone’s lights out for calling the teacher a bitch behind her back and then vehemently apologized for interrupting class and escorted both himself and the guy with the broken nose back to the castle,  _ without being asked.  _

Whatever that little slip of a guy who takes no shit and has the hungriest eyes she’s ever seen when it comes to knowledge, is on, she wants to be on it too. Really, his thoughtful expression the day she told another Slytherin if he ever said something bad about Steve ever again she would  _ break his fucking legs and tie them like a pretzel _ , should have been her first warning. 

But Natasha, ever the optimist, had believed that perhaps he was simply thinking of how terrifying she is and that maybe he should avoid her from then on. He didn’t, obviously, because this is  _ Steve  _ and he wouldn’t recognize danger if it was wearing a giant pink tutu and singing christmas carols, let alone run away from it like a rational human being. 

He would probably grab some ballerini shoes and join it, quite honestly. 

So, point is, she should have expected it. But she was still caught completely off guard the day she was sitting beneath her group’s trademarked tree and footsteps started getting progressively louder behind her. She ignored them. They didn’t stop or get fainter, they continued towards her. She continued to ignore them. They continued to not stop. 

When a tapping comes on her shoulder, Natasha has no real choice but to snap shut the edition of “Remedies, Extremities, and Broken Bones,” by Helzuba Kernip, and glare down Tony from his seat next to Bruce, the only other member of their entourage with a free period, to stop the oncoming blur of words she knows is inevitable. Tony just smirks at her with the same smugness from the day Clint first approached her. 

Natasha freezes. 

She slowly turned like a puppet being forced by invisible strings, kind of already knowing what was waiting behind her but hoping to every god in the sky that she’s uncharacteristically wrong. 

Of course she’s characteristically right.

There’s steve in all his adorable blondeness with a giant boa constrictor in his arms. Full stop. Natasha’s mind blanks. Then it starts up again and it takes everything she has to stay calm as the  _ damn snake starts curling around Steve’s neck.  _

“Steve. Steve why is there a snake in your arms. Steve,  _ why do you have a giant snake.” _ She states with absolutely no emotion, eyes fixed on the snake that’s slowly wrapping itself around the frail boy’s neck. Her mind is blanking and restarting over and over again and the panic building in her stomach is horrible and sickening and just the same kind of feeling she had the day her first set of parents put her in a car and didn’t answer her when she asked where they were going- when her foster brother locked the door to the bedroom they shared and looked at her with hunger in his eyes- when a strange man with one eye and a trench coat appeared in her bedroom door way and her caretaker looked roofied-

“Don’t worry yourself, doll. This is Hulk, my emerald tree boa. He looks intimidating, but he’s harmless, a complete softy.” Another voice startles her out of it. He’s taller than Steve, broader in his shoulders and obviously athletic and- 

Oh. Oh that’s where Steve got the jacket from, she realizes as she glances between the two boys. The one with brown hair has his arm slung over Steve’s shoulders loosely, as if this is a natural thing for them to do, and Natasha remembers suddenly Steve mentioned someone named ‘Bucky’ at some point or another after a fight that earned him a bloody nose. If she can recall correctly, his words were basically ‘Bucky’s gonna kill me for gettin’ in a fight again.”

“You’re the Bucky that Steve talks about in Herbology, right?” She surprises herself by saying. He grins at her, bringing out the blue of his eyes when he shifts around Steve and his Gryffindor uniform becomes visible, and Natasha’s mind reboots for a completely different reason. 

“That’s me, doll. Don’t suppose Stevie here mentioned wantin’ to show you my snake before bringin’ him over, huh?” He drawls with a distinct Brooklyn accent she could never quite place with Steve. The nickname’s filed away for later questioning, them obviously being close friends and all, and Natasha’s a bit alarmed at the nickname he’s apparently already given her. 

Doll isn’t exactly something she wants to be labeled as, but when she opens her mouth to set him straight, something completely different comes out. 

“I’m Natasha, if Steve hasn’t already told you, and aren’t you a Gryffindor? House rivalries…? Gryffindors’ hatred of snakes…? None of this ringing any bells?” 

For a second she regrets her choice of words, not wanting to insult him for whatever reason that’s never been an issue before now, but Bucky just laughs. Natasha can’t stop herself from just watching him. His smile is just so-  _ warm.  _ Full of life and earnest happiness and he just radiates  _ kindness  _ to a frankly scary degree, and she finds herself caught in his orbit against her will. 

“Me and Steve never really put much stock into all that house rivalry stuff. Steve would start a brawl for your honor if I insulted you for your colors-” 

“I would not!” Steve protests, Bucky not even acknowledging he's been interrupting and continuing without missing a beat. 

“-and snakes have always been a favorite of mine. Don’t suppose you’d like to hold him, doll?”

Steve offers her the alarmingly large boa constrictor who’s still tangled around his neck, and she gives him the ‘what the fuck am I supposed to do here’ look, and Bucky, luckily, has some common sense under his very soft looking hair and gentle unwraps the snake off his friend. 

His hands are so gentle when holding Hulk, almost cradling him like a baby, and Natasha’s opinion of him only gets more positive as the time goes on. She pushes up from the ground to take the snake from him, and he hands him over with only a cautionary warning to be gentle and not squeeze him too much. 

The way he keeps calling her doll, does  _ not  _ move his rating from ‘possible friend candidate’ to ‘I wonder what you taste like,’  _ at all, shut up Clint.  _

The snake is placed in her arms like someone would lay a dress so the end doesn’t touch the ground, and she stands completely still as it settles against her chest. It’s head lifts up to look her in the eye and she gulps despite herself, wondering if this is how she dies. 

Bucky reaches over again with laughing eyes to pull her arms a bit closer to her body and make it easier to hold Hulk, and after a few seconds of the animal just laying across her body limpy, she began to relax.

“There you are. You’re a natural, doll!” 

Natasha smiles slightly as Hulk uncurled a bit and began slithering up her shoulder, resting it’s face against her neck like a baby. She snorts a laugh when it’s tongue flicks out and gets her right in the junction of shoulder to throat, and Hulk recoils as if she doesn’t taste like he was expecting. 

It’s strangely adorable for a reptile. 

“So you’re a Gryffindor with a green snake, correct?” She questions with raised eyebrows. Bucky smirks and Natasha thinks her lungs just about stopped working. 

“ _ Sashe aska enda ena sshana?” _

Natasha’s jaw drops. Everyone around them goes completely silent, you could hear a pin drop in the normally rowdy courtyard, and Steve is grinning like an idiot. 

“You’re a parselmouth.” She murmured completely stunned. She couldn’t even take her eyes off his stupid, beautiful, devilishly smirking face. No one should be allowed to have a jawline that sharp, she decides absently and in a completely different part of her brain than the one to do with cognitive functioning and all that jazz. “You’re a Gryffindor parselmouth with a pet green boa constrictor you named Hulk.”

“You’ve got just about all of it, doll.” 

And Natasha knew, in that moment, that she fucked up. She knew before he winked at her shocked expression. She knew before he stepped forward into her personal bubble and lifted his snake from her arms, brushing their hands together when he definitely didn’t need to. She knew before Hulk melted into him like a content cat stretched out in the sun and curled up on his shoulders. 

She knew before Tony leaned over from behind her and whispered, “If you don’t jump his bones, I sure as hell  _ will.” _

She knew she was fucked. 

She knew because she suddenly had the desire to  _ be fucked  _ by  _ him.  _

And that’s how everything fell apart.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Explain.” She demands, slamming her books down on the library table. Bruce and Tony don’t even look up from each other, Loki’s already too far gone if how he’s sleeping with open eyes is anything to go by, and Clint looks her dead in the eye as he turns his hearing aid rune off, intelligent bastard. 

Rhodey, bless that man and his future children, actually pays attention to what is definitely going to be a top tier bitch fest right here. 

“Nat, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific. I’m about 75% sure you don’t want me to start explaining the meaning of life to you, so please elaborate.” Rhodey, the sarcastic ass, is completely unfazed by the crazed look of a feral racoon she’s just about 75% sure she’s sporting at the moment with her red curls mused from running her hands through it and her bottom lip that’s been gnawed to death. 

She opens her mouth to explain exactly what hellspawn has come crashing into her life and ruined her once unnatural self restraint, and doesn’t even get the chance to start her tirade.

“She means tall, dark, and handsome with the green snake she’s been drooling over for the last three days. Natasha Romanoff has officially cracked!” Tony crows gleefully. 

“Shush!” She yelps at how  _ loud  _ he’s being, and in her momentary panic does something either very ill advised or very intelligent. She grabs the first thing in arms reach and chucks it at the living irritation’s head. 

She will later insist that she thought it was a book that she grabbed. No one will believe she mistook a chair for a library book, no matter how many times she professes her innocence. Natasha’s stuck in place for a moment, face mirroring Tony’s absolutely shocked expression at the pile of fractured wood behind him he just barely dodged. 

Everything is deathly quiet for a moment as he slowly turns to face her. 

“ _ Who  _ just broke a chair  _ in my Library?!”  _ Professor Carter’s voice booms from across the room and they all spring into action. Loki falls out of his seat, waking up in a split second and half crawling, half running, makes a beeline for the back door as Rhodey drags a protesting Tony after him, the idiot trying to grab all his books and papers as if the librarian won’t  _ ground their bones to dust and use it as seasoning.  _ Bruce looks like he’s about to faint, Clint is looking at them like they have four heads because he can’t hear the sound of impending doom storming towards them through a maze of bookshelves. 

It’s a blur of robes and sheets of parchment as they all scramble to get the everloving  _ hell  _ out of there before the librarian beats them to a bloody pulp. 

Say what you will about Headmaster Fury, Professor Carter is  _ infinitely  _ more terrifying. 

It’s only when they’ve got out the door and through three different corridors and hidden in the secret room behind the First Headmaster statue on the second floor, that they finally stop to catch their breath. Natasha’s bent over and breathing heavily, but she’s doing much much better than Tony who’s collapsed on the floor and Bruce who looks like a fish, opening and closing his mouth with the frequent wheeze every now and then. 

Rhodey barely looks winded, stupid quditch players, and Loki’s groaning on the window seat like he’s dying, clutching his knee which he somehow managed to get a purple and yellow bruise on, in his scramble to freedom. She can’t even tell if the torn pant leg was something he did accidentally, just now, or if it was one of his “teenage rebellions” to piss off his Hufflepuff brother, Thor. 

It never actually angered said brother, he’d just get these droopy puppy dog eyes like he’s been kicked and the sad disappointment almost makes  _ Natasha  _ feel guilty and she didn’t even  _ do  _ anything. Whatever the fuck is happening with Loki’s relationship with his foster brother is something she ain’t touching with a 20 foot poll, thank you very much. 

  
  


“Loki, you uncoordinated bitch, you almost got us caught.” Clint loudly complains, shoving said bitch over so he can sit down too. Loki just gives him a withering glare that would make Professor Hill proud. 

“I think Natasha has something important to say,  _ Barton.”  _ The Slytherin hisses, shoving him off the seat. Clint’s betrayed yelp is ignored, Loki clearly more interested in Natasha’s existential crisis. 

“Yes, I do, so  _ explain.”  _ She turns on the still recovering Bruce and Tony who’s grinning wildly despite his heaving chest. 

“Bucky- Barnes- The- Gryffin- dor- babe-” Tony gasps between breaths. “Has- been- the- hot- beater- since- first- year-” He doubles over again, dramatically as is the forte of Anthony Edward Stark. 

(She hates herself for knowing his full name, because honestly there is no amount of wealth or social connections that could justify being friends with Tony, and knowing his middle name basically cements her as one of the “lucky” individuals stuck in that category against her will.)

“What are the rest of us missing, exactly? Because you and Tony seem to be the only ones on the same page here.” Rhodey speaks up, and Natasha whirls around to chuck the small ball of parchment at him. 

She ignores the blatant fact that, while running for her life from Hogwarts’ most terrifying occupant, she had still made sure to keep the scrap of overly expansive paper safely in hand. It just happened to be small and easy to carry, is all. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Ohh~ Is that,  _ gasp,  _ a  _ love note?!”  _

“Clint,  _ shut up  _ or I will  _ show you  _ true pain.” She spat back. The blonde recoiled, showing the self preservation no one else seems to have around here, even if he’s just doing it for show. His immature pout makes her narrow her eyes, daring him to push her. 

He doesn’t. 

Tony does. 

“Pregnant yet?”

“ **_Tony!”_ ** She snaps for the second time in a span of ten minutes, Tony’s just that talented, and makes a grab for him. Tony starts screaming like a three year old girl, and kicks Clint in the face in his rush to hide between Loki and the window, Loki’s cursing up a storm while they wrestle on the one person seat, Clint is clutching at his eye while Bruce is trying to get him to let go so he can check the wound, and  _ Rhodey,  _ because of  _ course  _ it’s Rhodey, has an arm hooked around her waist and is dragging her backwards away from the boy she’s two seconds away from  _ murdering.  _

“Okay okay, lets all  _ calm down and talk about this.  _ Natasha, continue.” He half begs, dodging the elbow she aims at his face. 

“ _ Fine.  _ Someone-“ She snarls in wanting at Tony who’s poking his head up from behind his human shield as if summoned. “ _ Someone  _ who shall remain nameless, passed me a note in charms about a quidditch game tonight. What the fuck am I supposed to do about that?  _ Explain.” _

“Well Natasha dear, I believe when I boy invites you to watch him knock people off brooms with baseballs of pain, you go to said game and cheer when people get hit.” Loki drawls, half sprawled across the seat, as dramatic as ever. 

Honestly, she can imagine this fuckwit being the one of their group to fake death multiply times just to prove how miserable they would be without him, only to be met with their deadpan expressions (no one would actually believe  _ Loki  _ was really dead, It’s  _ Loki)  _ and try again as many times as it takes to get a satisfying reaction. 

It’s 40% annoying and 60% sad. 

But 100%  _ not the point.  _

Her world ending exposure to the male gender  _ is.  _ Natasha’s not ugly, and really that’s the only requirement to get at least one boy’s attention, and there have been ‘incidents,’ involving that romantic stuff that every always goes gogga over, but she’s never really  _ gotten it.  _

Why put yourself in a vulnerable position if you don’t have a guarantee that the other person won’t take advantage of it? Won’t hurt you in some way? Why take that huge, monumental risk with such a high failure rate, if you don’t have any way of ensuring it ends up anywhere better than rock bottom?

Why bother? 

So, she’s not too good with  _ actually wanting  _ to respond to someone’s advances. The only other time had been Kathra from when she was six and the girl offered her a crayon for her hand in marriage (she’d probably have said yes if their caretaker hadn’t bustled in and shooed them all of to their separate rooms, and Kathra hadn’t be adopted a week later. She had her priorities in better order at 6 than she does at 15).

But she kinda, maybe,  _ wants  _ to see if this Gryffindor boy is any good on a broom. She  _ wants  _ to hold his snake again and watch him cast his wolf patronus in defense against the dark arts, she  _ wants  _ to be around someone who’s filled to the brim with sunshine when she can never be anything more than a blinking star, millions of miles away. 

She  _ wants  _ to have the courage to approach him in the courtyard when the sun’s glinting off the metal of his arm and dancing like a kaleidoscope of silver and white and misty gray. To touch it and know if it feels hot or cool, if it moves under her fingertips like a true arm would, if he can feel her through the wiring. 

She  _ wants.  _

And really, that’s the first part of falling. You just don’t know you’ve tripped yet. 


End file.
